Late Night
by soprano193
Summary: Pyka baby fic, based on tumblr prompt.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Based on tumblr prompt: Imagine your OTP sleeping together, with their baby/ies between them.**

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_I should change my alarm sound to a recording if her cries._ It marveled her how something quieter and further away from her could wake her up faster than her alarm clock could. Myka knew it was her turn, she knew it wasn't worth arguing. Her hair was sticking to her face with sweat, the summer months were hot, and they didn't have an AC. She pushed her hair out of her face and started toward her daughter's room.

She crept down the hallway of the bed and breakfast, careful not to wake Steve or Claudia, and hoping that the baby's cries hadn't woken them yet. Abigail had allowed them to use Myka's old bedroom for the baby, so they didn't have to move somewhere else. She loved that idea at the moment, a baby was enough of a financial strain without worrying about a mortgage. She knew a more stable environment down the road would be necessary. But right now it was nice, raising her daughter surrounded by the family.

Myka listened outside of the door before she entered. She may have soothed herself back to sleep. But that didn't happen often, and as per usual, it hadn't happened this time either. Myka opened the door quietly, and was greeted by her fifteen-month-old, who was standing at the rails, waiting for one of her parents to open the door. As soon as Myka entered, the wails stopped, and were replaced with laughter. Myka couldn't help it, she shook her head and laughed. "Faker." She said. In reality, this was a good thing. Her fake cries were funny and a bit annoying, but usually led to real cries, and those scared her because they got really bad really quick. She would sometimes throw up, or be unable to catch her breath, and Myka had decided she preferred her child breathing rather than not breathing. If she caught it early enough, then there wasn't a problem.

"Mumma!" The baby yelled, pointing at Myka. Her grin was infectious. Her curly brown hair was plastered to her head, and her brown eyes were wide open. "Mumma!" She said again.

"Ginny!" Myka matched the toddler's enthusiasm. She picked her up and held her close. Ginny took Myka's face in her hands and kissed it with a loud "ma!" She dragged out the 'm' for a few seconds before letting go, and she looked at her mom, waiting for a response.

"That was a very big kiss for Mumma, thank you sweetheart!" She showered the toddler with kisses, starting at her head, and slowly making her way down to her belly, where she blew a raspberry. Ginny giggled in response. Myka sniffed, and smelled something that was now all too familiar a smell.

"Imogen Rose Lattimer, you have a stinky bum!" This made the toddler laugh. She always laughed when Myka used her full name. When Myka found out she was pregnant, she and Pete had argued about names. She felt it was important to use one name from Shakespeare, as it was a family tradition (Myka's middle name was Ophelia, Tracy's was Viola) and Myka wanted to continue that. Pete was fine with it, even fine with using a first name instead of a middle name. But he was set on Juliet. "That's too cliché" Myka had complained. So many names to choose from, and Pete picks the most common one of the bunch. After months of arguing, they had settled on Imogen. Myka had loved her, tender and loyal, and the name was just common enough to not be too strange, but different enough to be unique. Pete conceded, and chose Rose as a middle name. Claudia had been the one to give her the nickname Ginny.

Myka laid Ginny down on the change table and changed her diaper quickly. She glanced at the clock, it was just after three in the morning. She sighed. "What do you think, time to go back to sleep?" She asked the baby. Ginny rubbed her eyes and yawned. She was zoned out and out of focus, all signs that told Myka she was exhausted. But Ginny began clawing at Myka's shirt. "Are you hungry?" Myka crooned. Nursing Ginny usually put her straight to sleep. Myka yawned. She was exhausted, and just wanted to lie back down. "Do you want to come eat in Mumma and Daddy's bed?" She looked at her daughter, who just blinked back in reply. Myka didn't know why she expected an answer. "Let's go!" She said. She walked out of the nursery and into her new room, the room that was formerly just Pete's.

She flicked the box fan on and climbed into bed slowly, trying her hardest not to jar Pete awake. She placed Ginny down in between them and lifted her shirt over her shoulder. Ginny latched, and they both fell asleep.

"Dada!" Myka heard, and it woke her up. The little body lying next to her was wiggling. Myka opened her eyes, and saw the little one pointing. "Dada!" She yelled, pointing at Pete. She rolled her body over to snuggle next to him. Myka glanced at the clock. It was a little past six, so they had been asleep for a while, longer than she had expected.

"Shhhhh." She told the toddler, holding a finger up to her mouth. "Daddy is sleeping."

Ginny copied Myka clumsily. Her whole hand went to her mouth like a claw and she made a sound that resembled the shush. Myka stifled a giggle. Ginny then turned her head to look up at her father's sleeping form. "Dada!" She said again, grinning from ear to ear. Myka watched as one of Pete's eyes opened. She gave him a sympathetic look, she hadn't wanted to wake him.

His hand came out to stroke Ginny's hair. He smiled. "How are my girls?" He whispered. He looked content even when he was exhausted, Myka knew that this family was his dream.

Myka chuckled quietly. "She is such a daddy's girl." She watched as their daughter's eyes started to close again, soothed by her father's touch.

"I'm telling you, when you are gone, I swear she calls for you." Pete responded.

"Yeah, but look who she's turned to now that she's gotten everything she can from me." Myka pointed at the toddler, whose eyes were closed, and her mouth hung open.

"Yeah, I know." He answered. He shot Myka his famous grin, one she saw mirrored on their daughter's face day after day.

Myka stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "Yeah, she likes you so much, you can be the one who wakes up to her. No more taking turns!" She joked.

Pete laughed. "She likes me now. Just give it a few years. Soon she'll be curled up in your lap reading whatever Shakespeare play you have or War of the Worlds or something, learning a new language, and she'll have no use for me."

"You know another language! And we have been using it with her." Myka protested. She and Pete had taught Ginny some signs, which made it a bit easier to communicate effectively.

Pete sighed. "If she learns it now, when she gets older, she will want to learn a different language from you. Therefore your argument is invalid, and we still need to take turns."

Myka smiled in spite of herself and snuggled closer to Pete and Ginny. It didn't matter how warm it was in the room, the warmth from their bodies always comforted her, and today was no different. She felt Pete kiss her curls, and she smiled contently. She kissed Ginny softly on the top of her head. Soon, she was drifting back to sleep, huddled closely to the two most important people in her world.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I got enough people who wanted me to continue. I think I'll stick with the same theme, and we will see where it goes...

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Myka snuggled closer to Pete, trying to escape the cold she still felt, even under three blankets. Yes, she loved the snow, but sometimes she wanted a break from the cold. Pete was good for this. He radiated heat. She snuggled closer again, so that her chest was pressed up against his back. He turned his head so he could see her out of the corner of her eye. "Close enough yet?" He asked.

Myka smiled. "Nope. We're cold, and you are keeping us warm." She could only see a small section of his face, but she could tell by the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes that he was smiling.

He turned so he was on his back. Myka rested her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her back, holding her close. The other hand he placed in her abdomen. Nothing was going on there yet, she had just found out she was pregnant. But she knew he was imagining it, her stomach swollen, feeling their child moving around. "You know, I never get tired of hearing you talk like that." He said.

"And I don't get tired of saying it." She replied. He placed a soft kiss in her hair, and slowly started wrapping her curls around his finger, something she'd learned he does when he is thinking. "What's on your mind?" She asked.

"When are we telling Ginny?" He answered. Myka hadn't thought about that. She knew they wanted to wait to tell their friends, that was a given. But with Ginny, it was harder. After they told everyone else, there was still a slight chance something could go wrong. How do you explain that to a four year old? She wanted to wait longer. At the same time, she wanted Ginny to know right away, and to share in their excitement. She was a very bright girl, and Myka wasn't sure what she would pick up anyway. All the blogs gave her different answers, and she just wasn't sure.

Myka shrugged. "Let me do some more research, and I'll let you know." She felt his chest shake while he chuckled quietly, and she smiled. He teased her all the time for how analytical she is. "Have you thought of any names?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Is Juliet back on the table?" Pete asked. She smacked him, just because she couldn't really punch his arm from the angle she was at.

"No. I don't want a daughter named Juliet. Not even for a middle name." She thought for a little bit. "I think I want to stick to Shakespearean names for middle names, I'm not really a fan of them as first names." She said. She honestly hadn't ever pictured herself picking out one name, let alone two. But becoming a mother had turned out to be one of the best decisions of her life.

She felt Pete nod. "Sounds okay to me. What names are there, other than Juliet?"

Myka thought and rattled names off, leaving out some of the more strange ones. "Well, there's Bianca, Katherina, Viola, Isabella and Miranda."

"Not Miranda, that's my niece's name." Pete responded.

"And Viola is Tracy's middle name, but I don't see why we can't still use it if we like it." She responded.

There was a silence for a bit as they both thought. "What about boy names?" Pete asked. His voice sounded loud in the quiet room, even though Myka knew he was practically whispering.

"We already have a boy name picked out." Myka answered, a bit confused.

"Are you still okay with that? Have you figured out a middle name for that yet?" Pete asked.

Myka looked up at him. "Of course I am okay with naming a boy after your father, Pete. You don't have to ask." He tightened his grip on her as she said that, and she snuggled even closer. "I don't have a middle name picked yet, but I have a few contenders." She answered. Curled up, surrounded by the warmth of her husband, Myka's eyelids began to feel heavy. As she started to drift off to sleep, she heard the door slowly creak open. She also heard the familiar whimpers of a crying child.

"Mumma? Daddy? Are you awake?" A quiet voice whispered. "I had a bad dream."

Myka sat up and looked toward the door, and saw her four year old wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. Myka gestured to Ginny, beckoning her to the bed. "I am awake baby girl. Why don't you come up here with me and Daddy and tell us all about your dream." The curly haired girl nodded, and walked toward her, climbing up on the bed.

Myka was struck again by her beautiful daughter. She looked like a Myka clone, but with Pete's eyes, and she flashed Pete's grin all the time. But everything else was pure Myka. It baffled her, because she had never thought of herself as beautiful until she had Ginny. Before, Tracy was the pretty one. Now Myka could see her own beauty as well coming through in her own child. It made her smile and frightened her all at the same time, she didn't like to think of the boys who would all be vying for her daughter's attention.

As Ginny climbed on the bed, Myka lifted her, and put her in between Pete and herself. Ginny laid down, and Pete wrapped his arms around her, protecting her from whatever fears she had conjured. Ginny looked up at Myka with her big brown eyes. "Some scary men kidnapped me." She explained.

Myka huddled close to her daughter, hanging on every word. "They did? Where did they take you?" She asked, prompting Ginny to continue.

"A big castle. And they told me I had to live there, and I would never see you again." She pouted. "I was sad. Castles are cool, but only if you and Daddy are there with me."

Pete stroked the little girl's hair. "You know, Mumma and I would always come looking for you. Aunt Claude would hack all the world's security cameras and use facial recognition software to find where you were and when you were there last. We would track you and save you so fast you wouldn't even notice you were gone." He smiled, and a sly grin crossed his face. "Just think, Ginny. If you weren't home, who would I tickle?" He tickled her softly and she giggled. Myka smiled and joined in, despite the late hour and despite not wanting to wind her up.

Ginny turned her head to look at her father. "But you did find me." She explained. She turned her head back towards her mother. "You came into the castle in a big horse!" Myka suddenly knew where this was going, and Pete shot her a look. He had told her many times that she was more than welcome to tell Ginny classic stories, just not ones that would give her nightmares. _I'll be answering for this one for a while._

"You and Aunt Claude and Uncle Steve and Granpa Artie came out of the horse and started shooting people with your teslas." She pointed at Pete and rattled off the other names on her fingers.

"Not me?" Myka asked, concerned. Should she be worried that she didn't save her daughter in her own nightmare?

Ginny shook her head. "No, Mumma. You had a sword!" She was grinning from ear to ear.

Pete brought himself lower, to fake-whisper into Ginny's ear. "See, that's a good thing honey. Mumma is bad ass with a sword in her hand!"

"Pete!" Myka slapped his chest, and Ginny laughed.

"Ow." He said, rubbing his chest and making a face. "I'm sorry, okay? I meant to say that Mumma kicks butt with a sword." He looked at Myka apologetically.

Myka moved closer and wrapped her daughter in a giant bear hug. "If we saved you, why are you scared?" she asked.

"You didn't save me yet. You were just trying to. Then I woke up." She snuggled closer to her Mom now. "It was really scary, Mumma."

Myka stroked her curly hair. "I know, sweetheart. But we have you now, and you're safe. Nothing bad can happen to you here." She felt the little girl nod. Pete moved closer, and they sandwiched her in between them, protecting her from her fears. Pete placed a kiss on her head. Soon her breathing began to slow. So did Pete's. Myka was the last of them awake. She waited in that moment, taking it all in. She didn't know how many more of these they would have, just the three of them. It was exciting but sad all at the same time. She placed a kiss on her daughter's head, and closed her own eyes, drifting slowly off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Myka listened to the sound of the rain on the roof of the bed and breakfast. It was one of those sounds that could always calm her down. She always imagined it washing away all of her worries and stresses. Which, after today, was exactly what she needed. Today was her first day back in the field after taking her maternity leave. On top of that, she was paired with/training the new guy.

Claudia was being trained to take over as caretaker, so Mrs. Frederick had been taking her more and more. This meant Steve was without a partner. With Myka on maternity leave, that was fine, he was usually paired with Pete. But now that she was back (or back doing fieldwork, seeing as how she never really left, and she was still there practically every day of her maternity leave) Steve was in need of a new partner. So they hired Levi Galison, a younger man with ashy blonde hair, with a type A personality (much like Myka's, it was a little strange). He was also a really good profiler, he got into people's heads. So on her official first day back, Myka took out the new guy. It was a straightforward case, as straightforward as they come, but she was exhausted from all of the traveling and arguing in the field. He hadn't quite learned that these things don't always go by the book, and liked to argue strategy and procedure. She felt like she was seeing herself at her early days, and she hated it. In fact, the first thing she did when she got back was wrap Pete in a hug and whisper in his ear. "I'm sorry if I was ever that bad."

He hugged her back. "You're not like that anymore, I promise." He kissed her curls. Myka wasn't sure it was entirely truthful, but she took it. She sat with her laptop on the couch near the fireplace and worked on her report. But the words started to blend together. It was only eleven, but she knew she had to go to bed. Since when was artifact hunting so exhausting?

When she walked into her bedroom, she saw Pete tucking their son into his bassinet. She smiled, and realized that this was the answer to all of her questions. It was exhausting enough with one kid, bit now she had two, and she hadn't quite readjusted. She quickly changed into pajamas (one of Pete's shirts and a pair of shorts) and climbed into bed, Pete right behind her.

So now she listened to the rain, and the soft breathing of Martin in his bassinet. With Pete's arms around her, she fell asleep.

She awoke a few hours later, to the sound of Martin crying softly. She rolled over toward the bassinet, and felt Pete's arm tighten around her. "Stay in bed, it's my turn." He whispered. He kissed her curls tenderly, and stood up. She watched him go over to the bassinet, and lift the four month old up. "Hey, buddy!" He crooned. Myka watched him with their son, and her began to swell. She understood why Pete wanted to name Martin after his father. Pete tried to be the father he didn't get to have all of his life, the father he remembered. He was extremely involved in every aspect of their lives, and Myka admired that. It was everything she ever wanted in a father, and she loved watching him interact with their kids.

Pete picked up the boy higher, and sniffed his diaper. He placed Martin on his chest, and pulled the diaper away from Martin's body. He looked at Myka and shook his head. "He doesn't have to be changed."

Myka heard thunder crash outside. It was very loud, and sounded like the lightning had struck not too far away. She heard the sound of little feet, making their way down the hallway of the bed and breakfast. She smiled, and looked toward Pete. "I'm sure he is hungry, and our bed is about to get very crowded." She pointed to the door, and held up three fingers, silently counting down. Three, two, one. She pointed.

There was a tentative knock on their door. Pete looked at Myka. "You're good." She grinned with pride. He walked over to the door and opened it quietly. He made a shushing sound at the five year old who was waiting in the doorway.

She looked into the room, rubbing her eyes. Her curly hair was wild and stuck up all over the place. "The thunder woke me up." Her voice cracked, like she was about to cry. She rubbed her eyes some more.

Myka nodded. "Yeah, I think it woke Martin up too." She gestured for the girl to join her up in the bed. Another thunderclap sounded, and Ginny rushed toward the bed. Myka lifted her up and snuggled her close. The little girl had never enjoyed loud noises, and had spent many thunderstorms in the comfort of their arms. Myka stroked Ginny's hair. "Can I give you to Daddy?" She whispered, and Ginny snuggled closer. "Daddy can snuggle you too, and that way, I can feed Martin. Does that sound like a good plan?"

Ginny reluctantly pulled away from her mother. Pete handed a whimpering Martin to Myka, and climbed into the other side of the bed. He wrapped Ginny in a gigantic bear hug, one of the kinds that were reserved for when she was especially upset. Martin latched on to Myka, and she turned toward Pete and Ginny, so that their children were nestled in between them. Another thunderclap resounded, and this one was louder than the other two. Ginny stiffened in Pete's arms, and he hugged her tighter.

"When I grow up, will I be as brave as you, and not be afraid of thunderstorms?" Ginny asked after she had relaxed a bit.

Myka shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you just don't like loud noises, and that is okay. It doesn't mean you are not brave." Myka reached over and stroked the little girl's hair. "Can I tell you a secret?" She whispered, leaning in a little closer, without crushing Martin. Ginny smiled with anticipation. "I am afraid of anything with tentacles." Myka had to hold back a shudder at the mention of the word. It was something Pete still liked to say, just to watch her cringe.

Pete nodded. "And I hate rats. Those things are nasty!" Myka knew his biggest fear was abandonment, but understood that the concept would be hard to explain. But she loved that he caught on to where she was going.

"See, everyone is afraid of something." She smiled at the little girl. "I just happen to love thunderstorms."

Ginny looked at her with horror. "How can you love thunderstorms, Mom? They are so scary!"

Myka laughed. "Well, I always liked them, I thought they were pretty." She shot a look at Pete. "And then, when Daddy and I first started dating, he took me outside to look at the stars, like he does with you. Except, a thunderstorm started instead." She smiled, remembering that first date that hadn't gone at all as planned. "So we watched the lightning instead. It was beautiful, like fireworks." She brushed more hair out of her daughter's face. "So now, when there are thunderstorms, I think of Daddy, and that makes me really happy." He flashed her the famous Lattimer smile over the Ginny's head, and Myka's lips stretched out into an equally wide grin. "So that is why I love thunderstorms."

Ginny yawned, and relaxed more, settling into Pete's chest. "Thunderstorms make you think of Daddy, so you like them. Maybe I need to think of thunderstorms and you and Daddy, and maybe they won't be scary anymore."

Myka smiled. "I think that is a brilliant idea, Ginny." Ginny smiled slightly at the comment. Her eyes were closed, and soon, she was snoring. Martin had slept through the entire exchange. Myka kissed the top of his head gently. She looked over at Pete.

He nodded his head toward their two sleeping children. "We need a bigger bed." He whispered.

"Shut up and try to get some sleep, Pete." She knew that Ginny would soon take up most of the bed and hog the blankets, she was good at that. And no one ever slept well when that happened.

He grinned. "Sleep well my Ophelia. I love you."

Myka smiled in spite of herself. "I love you too, Pete."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Dear Jason, you were right, Pete hates rats, and I just couldn't think of it! The last chapter has been changed accordingly! Thanks for the heads up!**

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Myka felt like she had been run over by a truck. Her head was pounding, and she was drained of all her energy. She imagined Pete felt the same. They had both been up all night, sick to their stomachs. Ginny had brought a nasty bug home from school. She was home all day yesterday, bored and miserable. Last night, Myka and Pete caught it as well. Myka rolled over and looked at her clock. It was six. She didn't have to wake the kids up for another hour, and she didn't feel like she needed to run to the bathroom. What had woken her up?

She listened. In the still of the morning it was easier to hear. She quickly recognized the familiar retching and crying sounds coming from her children's room. "Not Ginny again." She said out loud as she pulled herself out of bed. She had been pleased when Ginny made it through the night, and was upset that she was still sick after all that time.

Myka was somewhat surprised to see Ginny sleeping peacefully in her bed. She shook her head as she went instead to her son's aid. Myka should have guessed it was Martin who was sick, but he was really resilient. This wouldn't have been the first time he skipped whatever bug was going around. But logically, it made sense that Martin would be sick next. She knelt beside him, and wiped the tears from his eyes. She hugged him close. "Oh, baby. How are you doing?" She crooned as she held him close.

"Ginny got me sick Mumma." He cried, snuggling closer.

"I know." Myka soothed. "She got me and Daddy sick too." She brushed his sandy hair out of his eyes, and glanced over at her sleeping daughter, who was stirring, and had to be up for school in an hour. She wanted Ginny to sleep for as long as possible.

She handed Martin the glass of water he had at his bedside. It was something Myka had read about other children doing, but her parents never allowed her to do. They had a very strict "no food in the bedroom" policy that was strictly enforced, which included glasses of water. She had never seen the harm, and it was something she enjoyed implementing with her own children. "Alright, swish this around in your mouth, but don't swallow." She instructed. She held out the trash barrel he had been using seconds ago, and instructed him to spit. She ran her fingers through his hair again. "Now, go lie down in bed with Daddy, and I'll be there in a minute." He nodded in response and left quietly.

That was one thing that was different about them. Ginny was always loud, always active. Martin was quieter, he had adopted this 'speak when spoken to' mentality. Ginny is what Myka imagined Pete was like when he was younger (and had received some confirmation of that idea from Jane). Martin reminded Myka of herself when she was younger, quiet and reserved, always observing. Myka grabbed the trash barrel and walked to the bathroom. She washed it out in the tub, and brought it with her to her bedroom.

Myka couldn't help but smile at the sight she saw back in her bedroom. Pete had turned toward Martin, and had his arm around the four year old, who was already asleep. Their mouths were open in identical positions, and they were both snoring. Myka stifled a laugh. Where Ginny was pretty much a Myka clone, other than her eyes, Martin was a really good mix. He had Pete's jawbone, nose, and forehead, but Myka's green eyes and cheekbones. His hair was a sandy brown, lightened by all the blondes on Pete's side of the family, and it had a bit of a wave to it, but nothing like the curls that topped Myka and Ginny's heads.

She placed the trash barrel down on her side of the bed and grabbed her phone. Just one more thing she needed to do before she could go back to sleep. She dialed the number and held the phone to her face.

"This better be important, because I don't have to be up for another two hours." The younger caretaker's voice answered. Myka could tell she had been woken from her sleep, and felt guilty. She didn't want to wake the younger woman up.

"I'm so sorry Claude. I have to ask you for a favor." Myka answered quietly.

She heard Claudia sigh. "Okay. Tell me what it is and I'll consider."

"Can you help me with Ginny?" Myka asked, knowing the soft spot Claudia had for her daughter.

"How can I help with the little genius?" Claudia asked, using the other nickname she had developed for the girl. Claudia's voice was brighter, like she had perked up thinking about Ginny.

"You know she was sick yesterday, right?" Myka started.

"Yeah." Claudia confirmed.

"Well, Pete and I have been up all night with the same thing, and Martin caught it just now. He is in bed with Pete as we speak. Can you just come in about forty-five minutes and help her get ready for school?" Myka held her breath, waiting for a response.

"Sure." Myka breathed out at Claudia's response. "But what if she still doesn't feel well?"

Myka shook her head. "I still want her to try. She made it through the night without an incident, hopefully she can make it to school. Her homework from the day before is still in her bag, and she can have whatever she wants for breakfast. Thanks Claud."

"Anytime, Mykes. I hope you all feel better soon." She heard the click on the other end, and put the phone down. She climbed into bed, and snuggled up to her son and her husband, and slowly fell asleep.

She was awoken by the sound of the farnsworth buzzing next to her. She groaned and pushed the curls out of her eyes. Martin and Pete had woken up, and both looked at the buzzing farnsworth in Myka's hand. She opened it and pressed the button to answer it.

"I'm not coming in today." The grumpy man on the other side said.

Myka smiled. "That's fine, neither are we." She panned the farnsworth so that he could see Martin and Pete lying in bed.

"Oh, hi Marty." His voice softened when he saw the boy. Artie was the only person in the world that Martin allowed to call him Marty. Claudia tried once and he yelled at her, which was not something he did often.

Martin waved at the farnsworth with a limp hand. "Hi Granpa Artie. Ginny got me sick." He explained.

Artie nodded on screen. "Me too buddy. So I guess that means Claudia is in charge."

Myka could hear the worry in his voice. "Artie, she'll be fine. You know that. It's been ten years since she was that kid she used to be. She knows more about the warehouse than all of us combined at this point." Myka knew reasoning with him was pointless, the warehouse to him is what Ginny and Martin are to her, his baby.

"I know." He answered, trying to sound convincing. "I know that, I just... I haven't missed a day in twenty years." He responded. She understood this. Other than maternity leave, Myka had never missed a day. And even when she was on maternity leave, she still went to the warehouse every day to do inventory, paperwork, and other mundane tasks.

"Artie, you do realize she is practically your boss, right?" Pete responded, and Myka laughed.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." He responded, still not convinced.

Martin pulled himself closer to Myka so he could see the screen. "Granpa Artie! If you feel better later today, can you come over and play piano with me?"

Myka watched a warm smile stretch over her boss' face. "That depends on how you are feeling Marty. But if not today, definitely tomorrow." Myka watched him lay back into bed. "Feel better guys." With that the farnsworth flicked off.

Myka placed the farnsworth on her nightstand next to her cell phone. She was still so tired despite the fact that she would have normally been up two hours ago. She felt Martin's body snuggle closer to hers. She placed a kiss in his hair. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

He shrugged. "Sick." He answered bluntly. He looked toward Pete. "Can Granpa Artie come play piano later?" He asked. That, as well as learning to play chess, were some of his favorite activities. Artie had turned out to be a really good babysitter, keeping an eye on the kids when Pete and Myka had missions that required them to travel overnight, and helping them with their history homework when they came home from school. He had taught them both piano, and Ginny routinely beat him at chess.

Pete tousled Martin's hair. "We'll see." He yawned. "I'm still really tired." He rolled toward his wife and son.

Martin yawned too. "I'm tired too."

Myka laughed. "I would still be asleep if I didn't keep getting woken up!" She rolled toward the center of the bed, and wrapped Martin in a hug. "I vote we go back to sleep." She whispered, closing her eyes.

"Okay." Martin whispered, nuzzling closer.

She felt Pete's hand stroking her curls, and she couldn't help but smile. "Have I ever told you how much I love your brilliant ideas?" He asked.

"Clearly not enough." She answered. Soon her breathing slowed, and she drifted off to sleep once again.


	5. Chapter 5

How do you say goodbye to one of the most important people in your life? This was the question Myka had been asking herself all day. Artie was so close to her and her family, and now, suddenly, he was gone.

Myka hadn't had the chance to mourn, not that she wanted to. She had to be there for her children, she didn't have time to mourn. She had immediately gone to work, drying their tears, picking up warehouse slack, and planning the funeral. The four days had passed without it really phasing her. So now she was here, dressed in a simple black dress with a red satin sash, her hair pulled out of her face for once, kneeling in front of his urn, her arms wrapped around her crying nine year old.

Martin had been especially close to Artie, learning piano and chess, and listening to stories about all of Artie's work as a cryptographer. Martin and Ginny were both history buffs, listening to all of Arties stories. He was the best at telling them in a way that anyone would understand, and both children seemed to have inherited Myka's photographic memory. Myka pushed the hair out of her son's face, and looked into his green eyes that mirrored her own. "How are you doing?" she asked him, still avoiding that question herself.

He shrugged, a typical, quiet response from him. She flashed him a small smile, and pointed towards the two girls in pink dresses at the back of the room. "Did you see that Levi brought Kiera and Ashley?"

He shrugged again. "I just don't feel like playing today." He answered slowly, dropping his head.

Myka's lips tightened as she watched her son hold back his tears again. Playing with Levi's little girls always cheered him up. She squeezed his arm reassuringly. "Why don't you try, okay? I think they might be sad you, you could cheer them up." She watched him nod slowly and walk toward the back of the room.

As soon as he was gone, she felt thin arms wrap around her neck from behind. She recognized the bracelet on her daughter's wrist, the charm bracelet Artie had bought her for Christmas a few years back. She ran her hands slowly over Ginny's, grabbing on to her fingers and standing up. Ginny was almost as tall as Myka now. At thirteen, she was experimenting with makeup and hair. She was in the awkward years, but Myka kept telling her that she was more and more beautiful every day, whether or not Ginny believed her. She had a black spaghetti strap dress with a white panel in the middle and a black sash on. She had tried to straighten her hair, her latest obsession (Even though Myka kept telling her that it wasn't worth the effort), but the humidity was undoing all her hard work, and her hair was slowly starting to curl again anyway. Myka hugged Ginny's head to her chest, placing a kiss on the crying girl's head.

"It's not fair, Mum." She clutched her hands around Myka's neck, and it was all Myka could do to hold in her own tears. She hated seeing her babies so hurt.

She stroked Ginny's hair. "I know." She crooned, gently rocking her daughter back and forth. She closed her eyes, seeing Artie in her mind's eye, hugging Ginny the same way she was. She felt Pete's arms wrap around them both, and she shuddered a bit. Pete had been like the kids, crying and upset, and she didn't blame him. Artie was a part of Pete's family, he was a part of hers too. He was so much more than just a boss, not quite a father, but so important to them all.

Ginny shifted from her Mother to her Father, finding comfort in Pete's strong arms. Myka wasn't fazed, Ginny had always been a little closer to Pete where Martin was closer to her. Myka smiled as she watched them together, Ginny wrapping her arms around his neck and him lifting her up. Myka knew Pete would always do that to her, no matter how old she was.

Levi came over to their little group, his arms outstretched to wrap Myka in a much needed hug. Levi hadn't been a part of this family as long as she had, and he didn't live at the Bed and Breakfast like everyone else, but he was really close to them all. While wrapped in his arms, Myka couldn't help but remember how awful he was to work with at first. But Mrs. Frederick had a knack for picking out the perfect agents, finding people everywhere who loved their jobs just as much as she and Pete had grown to. "How are the little geniuses handling this?" He asked when they broke apart.

Myka shrugged. "They are devastated. Artie was closer to them than their actual grandparents."

He nodded, running his hands through his blonde curls. "Yeah. My monsters aren't doing so well." He looked over at the spot where his girls and Martin were playing, halfheartedly. He wiped tears from his own eyes as he glanced at his wife, her hand resting protectively on her pregnant belly. "I just hate that he won't be around to meet my youngest."

This time, Myka wrapped him in a hug, rubbing his back as his body shook with sobs. Levi had lost a father too, and Artie was definitely a replacement for him, much like Pete.

"Dad!" Kiera cried out from across the room, reaching toward Levi. He removed himself from Myka's arms and shuffled over to his daughter. Myka stood at the front of the room and looked around. Steve was on his knees in front of Claudia, comforting her while his new boyfriend, Joel, stood awkwardly off to the side. They hadn't been dating long, but Joel had been great, a rock for Steve to lean on. She saw Hugo sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, all alone. Kiera was crying on Levi, while Martin and Ashley looked on, tears in both of their eyes. Vanessa stood in the back of the room, receiving visitors and looking as classy as always. Ginny was sitting on Pete's lap, deep in conversation with her Father. And Myka was alone, for the first time in days. She finally allowed the first of her tears to fall.

The services were long, and a blur. Myka didn't pay attention to the words. The picture slideshow was the worst though. Seeing all those selfies of him and Claudia, all the pictures of Artie and her kids at various birthdays and holidays, really tore her up. There would be no more of those. Pete wrapped her in his arms, and Myka was reminded of why Ginny liked him more. His hugs made everything okay. They secured her and kept her safe, kept her grounded, even in the worst of times. He had always given her the best hugs, even before they started dating. She calmed a bit in his arms, looking over and watching her children comfort each other.

The rest of the day was a blur. They went to the reception, eating and talking, but Myka couldn't remember any conversations from that day. She sat at a table with her family (That included Steve, Claudia and Joel), swapping stories about Artie, reminiscing, and laughing at Claudia's spot on impersonation.

It happened when Myka got up to get more food. She felt a tap on her shoulder, and turned around, looking straight into the eyes of Mrs. Frederick, beehive and all. She startled, backing into someone. "You probably shouldn't do that in a crowded room, you could hurt someone." Myka teased, her voice still shaky.

Mrs. Frederick didn't crack a smile. "Agent Bering. I would like to extend my condolences to you and your family." She spoke flatly.

Myka nodded. "And we would like to extend ours to you. I didn't see you at the service." She didn't mean to make it sound like an accusation, but it came out that way.

"I assure you I was there. Agent Nielsen," she paused, "Artie, was very important to me. I just didn't mingle ahead of time." Myka nodded, understanding. She inched closer to the food table, and Mrs. Frederick followed her. "I actually need to talk to you. It's a matter of utmost importance."

Myka placed another tuna sandwich on her plate. "I'm all ears." She responded, looking back at the older woman.

"Claudia and I have talked at length, and we have discussed it with the Regents, and they all agree. We want you to take over Artie's position as Senior Agent."

Myka almost dropped her plate. She shook her head. "I can't think about this right now." She mumbled, her ears ringing.

Mrs. Frederick didn't push. "I understand you have been working hard the last few days. Take a few days off, the Regents can handle retrievals if the world is in danger, until then, you and the rest of the team need to take a few days." Myka nodded, understanding but not sold on the idea of missing work. Mrs. Frederick was looking over at the table where Claudia sat, the first signs of happiness on her face in four days. "Make sure Claudia stays at home too. That's an order, Agent Bering." Myka looked over at the table too. Claudia was laughing, along with Ginny and Pete. She smiled, and nodded, turning her head back to speak to Mrs. Frederick. But she was gone, popped out to do whatever it was she did in her free time.

Myka sat back at the table, confused and hazy. She wasn't listening to stories anymore, she was analyzing her choices. This would mean training another new agent, one to be Pete's partner. Not working with Pete everyday would be nerve racking, and him being without her on dangerous missions would drive her insane. But it was an amazing opportunity. And her connection to the warehouse would change in beneficial ways. The last few days without Artie there had been strange, but she hoped that her taking over would help heal both the warehouse and herself.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice Pete standing, gathering the troops, ready to head home. She followed him to the car, allowing him to drive, as she was deep in thought. He held her hand as they drove, and raised one eyebrow at her. "I'll tell you later." She explained. He nodded and looked back at the road. This was why he was the best, he didn't push her, allowed her to process things herself before talking them over.

At the B&B, the kids ran upstairs, ready to change out of their uncomfortable funeral clothes and into pajamas. Myka sat at the table, and filled Pete in on the offer from Mrs. Frederick, and all the pros and cons she had thought of while driving over.

He shrugged. "Sounds like a good deal to me. You'd be great at that, Mykes." She smiled, looking up at him. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips, rubbing her back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, those finger sandwiches were not nearly enough. I'm starving!" he rubbed his stomach comically, and smiled at her, heading into the kitchen. Myka headed upstairs to change into her own pajamas.

She was surprised to see Ginny sitting on her bed, waiting for Myka to open the door. Her hair was now pulled out of her face, the curls in a loose bun on the top of her head. "Mom, Claudia called Artie a hero, something about saving her life, and saving Joshua from some sort of alternate universe. What was she talking about?"

Myka sighed. Martin and Ginny knew a little about the warehouse, but not the whole story. They thought it was some sort of archive for the Smithsonian and other museums, they didn't understand exactly what their parents did there. She and Pete had always said they would use their judgment when it came to telling the kids.

She sat next to the teen, pulling her into her lap and wrapping her arms around the thin frame. "What I am about to tell you is extremely classified, okay? I only get to tell one person in the world, and I want to tell you."

She felt Ginny nod against her chest. "You don't want to tell Dad?" she asked, sounding confused.

Myka stroked her hair. "Dad already knows, I don't have to tell him. We share this secret together, and he gets to tell one person too. Since I am telling you, he will eventually tell Martin." She took a breath, her mind racing around to all the possible things she could say. "It's really hard to explain." She continued, struggling to find the words. "You already know that Dad and I collect artifacts, right?" Ginny nodded, her head turning so that her brown eyes connected with her mother's green ones. "Well, these artifacts sometimes have magical powers, and sometimes, they threaten to end the world." Her face turned red. Explaining this out loud made her seem crazy, and she couldn't meet her daughter's eye. "Like, there was a jar from the Donner Party that froze everyone and made them really hungry." Her stomach growled just thinking about how hungry she had been.

Ginny laughed when she heard her mother's stomach. "Bringing back memories for you?" she teased.

Myka laughed. "Yeah!" she nodded, stroking the hair out of her daughter's face and behind her ear. "Your Dad got bit by a guy who was affected, he thought it was a zombie, and told me that if he turned, he wanted me to take him out." The corner of her mouth stretched into a smile as Ginny's laughter filled the room.

"Typical Dad." She laughed, shaking her head. "Zombies are not real."

Myka nodded. "I know. And anyway, he wasn't affected, I was. And he had to work hard to find out what it was that was affecting everybody. As I'm sure you know, the Donner Party didn't end well."

Ginny's eyes grew wide as she realized what Myka was saying. "People could have died."

Myka nodded, deciding to leave out the fact that someone did. "Yeah. But Dad saved me." She smiled at the memory, the relieved look on his face when she asked him if she had eaten anyone. "Artie was our boss, and he saved the world on more than one occasion. He helped us save it. He saved Claudia, and Claudia's brother. He went through a lot, and got very little thanks. He was a hero." She felt tears start to fall again, and felt the smaller body in her arms begin to shake.

They were like this for a few minutes when they felt the bed dip next to them. Myka felt two sets of arms wrap around her. She marveled for a second at how big her son was, how strong his embrace was. They all sat in the center of the bed, just holding on to each other.

"Mom?" Ginny's voice broke the silence, and her brown eyes explored her mother's face. "Will you take me to see it one day soon? The Warehouse?"

Myka smiled. Of course their child would be interested in seeing their world, the world of endless wonder. She wondered if that was something all Warehouse parents did inadvertently, raise their children with a sense of adventure. She smiled, and rubbed Ginny's cheek with her thumb. "Of course, baby. Of course."


	6. Chapter 6

Sunday nights were the best. Pete and Ginny were laying on the bed so that their feet were up near the pillows, watching the football game. It was the one night that Myka allowed them to eat popcorn in the room, and they took full advantage. Martin sat up with Myka at the top of the bed, reading his mother's worn copy of War of the Worlds. Myka had a laptop out, writing reports, but she wasn't getting much work done. The game was actually pretty good this week, and she wasn't concentrating well.

This had become a weekly ritual. When it wasn't football season, they typically rented a movie, or settled in to watch an old classic. Sometimes they would all just sit around talking, sharing news about their lives.

Since taking on Artie's old job, Myka's paperwork load had doubled, and she finally understood the backlog for inventory. There just weren't enough hours in the day. Sometimes, when Ginny wanted to go to the movies with friends, she would pay the teen $10 an hour to work on inventory for her (in pre-approved, not dangerous areas of course). Sometimes, it seemed to be helping, but sometimes it seemed hopeless. She was writing up a monthly status report, when Ginny sat up and crossed her legs in front of her, a sign that she wanted to say something. Myka closed her laptop and looked at her daughter. She didn't speak, allowing Ginny to formulate her thoughts and speak up when she was ready, making sure that Ginny knew she was listening attentively.

"How do you know when you are in love?" The sixteen year old asked, turning towards her mother, her brown eyes exploring Myka's face.

Myka flashed her a small smile. "You just do." She shrugged. It wasn't exactly true, sometimes other people told you. "Which is really the worst answer ever." She placed the laptop on her nightstand and drew her knees up around her chest. Martin had closed his book, and even Pete was looking away from the tv. She continued. "It was harder for me, because I am so analytical. I didn't let myself feel anything because I was thinking too much." Thinking about Sam, and the ethics of dating a coworker, and thinking about whether or not Pete was mature enough for a relationship even though his immaturity made her smile and laugh and get this warm, tingly feeling all over her body. It grounded her when she felt like the world was falling around her, and she hated sometimes that it took her so long to realize it.

"I knew I was in love with your mother all along, I just never admitted it." Pete spoke up, angling himself so he could see everyone on the bed. "She would just smile, and the world seemed to get brighter. Her smile made my day better, and I found myself trying to make her smile every chance I got." Myka couldn't help but stretch a smile across her face now, listening to him talk about it, and remembering all the crazy things he did or said to try and make her smile.

Ginny brushed her hair behind her ears. She had given up on trying to tame her curls, so now she just let her hair hang long and free. "Because, every time I talk to this one person, my stomach flutters. And I love their jokes, they always make me laugh, even the cheesy ones. And I feel warm all over when I think of this person or when I am with them and I just don't know what to think. All those love songs finally make sense, and I've never felt this with the guys I've dated before." Myka perked up at the last sentence. She had known of Ginny dating two guys, and it wasn't very serious, so whoever this guy was must be special. Ginny placed her head in her hands and gazed ahead with a faraway look.

"I don't know, honey. It sounds like love." Myka answered honestly, reaching out to stroke her daughter's curls.

Ginny looked at her again. "What does it mean if I feel that way about a girl?"

Myka could see it. Her teenage daughter was scanning her face, looking for validation of the feelings she was experiencing, trying to gauge how Myka was taking the news. Myka gazed back into her brown eyes. "So you like girls. What's the big deal?" She answered, brushing her own curls out of her face. She grinned a little more elaborately than she would have normally, just hoping that Ginny would see that she really was okay with this. Pete had a similar expression on his face. He had placed his hand on her knee and rubbed his thumb back and forth over her denim jeans, just trying to reassure her.

Ginny let out a long breath of air. Myka hadn't realized she was holding it in. "Because, I have never really been attracted this way to guys, but I have been to girls, and I only dated those guys because I thought I had to. And I just don't know how I feel about all of this." Ginny plopped backwards, laying on her back, stretching her arms above her head.

Myka knew she could help Ginny, but she wasn't sure how she would take the news. But, if Ginny could be so vulnerable with her family, then Myka could definitely do the same. She shifted her body so she was sitting sideways on the bed. "Alright, what I am about to tell you two, only a few people in the world know." She addressed both of her children. Martin perked up at this, and Ginny sat up again, listening attentively. "I am bi-sexual." She watched her children's eyebrows rise with surprise, and she continued. "I may have settled down with a man, but I am attracted to women too." She explained truthfully.

"Did you have any girlfriends?" Ginny asked.

Myka nodded. "Yeah. Some were flings that I wrote off as a phase, or experimentation. But my sophomore year of college was my first long term relationship with a woman." She smiled, remembering. "Her name was Alex, which made it really easy for me to talk to Mom and Dad about, as long as I didn't use gender specific pronouns. They assumed Alex was a boy." She couldn't help but smile when she thought of Alex, the blonde woman who first stole her heart. Alex had been so sophisticated and smart, and Myka was heartbroken when she transferred to a school in LA.

"Why didn't you want to tell your parents?" Martin asked, his question warranted. He leaned forward, waiting for Myka's answer.

She shrugged. "I didn't know how they would take it." She answered truthfully. "Homosexuality back then was not looked on as kindly as it is now. And we didn't have any gay family friends, so it was never something we talked about either way." She fidgeted with her hands in her lap. "You guys are lucky. We talk about Aunt Helena and Uncle Steve all the time, and you have good relationships with them. You know we love them, so it's easier when you have problems like this for you to come to us. I didn't have that."

Ginny smiled. "Did you ever have a thing for Aunt Helena, knowing what you know about her and yourself?"

Myka nodded. "I did actually." She smiled, remembering her crush.

"Are you kidding, Aunt Helena could make gay men question their sexuality! Of course your mother liked her!" Pete interjected and they all laughed.

When the laughter died down, she continued. "I did. I never acted on it though. And then she tried to destroy the world, and I wasn't really sure what I thought anymore."

Martin's head whipped around to look at Myka. "Aunt Helena tried to do WHAT?" He asked, and Pete and Myka laughed. Martin looked at Ginny, who shrugged. She didn't know the story either.

Myka waved his question away. "That's a story for another day." She brought her knees to her chest again. She didn't like to think about it, being betrayed by a person she cared about, someone she may have loved. She had been so defeated, taken advantage of, and thinking back to that point in her life brought her great pain. "The point is, she never acted on it and neither did I. I don't really know what would have happened if we did." She glanced at Pete. "Besides, your Dad makes me extremely happy, I love him very much, and Aunt Helena is happy with Giselle, and I really like the way things turned out." She watched Pete's face break out into a huge grin, and she couldn't help but smile back. That grin made her feel warm all over, and she loved seeing it mirrored in her children's faces. She turned back to Ginny. She tousled Martin's hair. "Besides, without dad I wouldn't have you. And watching him with you two has made me fall deeper in love with him." Pete had always been a family man, Myka knew that. And she never knew how badly she wanted a family like this until she had one. She couldn't imagine life without her kids, and she couldn't imagine a better father than Pete.

"So, this girl that you like. Is she gay?" Myka asked.

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know." Her face fell. "What if she isn't?"

Myka flicked her eyes from Pete to Ginny, and was glad when he understood the silent message she was sending. He moved from his position and tackled Ginny to the bed in a giant bear hug. The teen laughed as she fell toward the pillows. When they settled, she looked again towards Myka for an answer.

Myka looked away. "That's what sucks sometimes. Sometimes your feelings won't be reciprocated. Sometimes friendships will be lost. Sometimes, love sucks. And that goes for gay and straight alike." She looked up again, this time into Pete's eyes. "But when it's with the right person, there is nothing better."

Ginny nodded, taking it all in. She stared towards the tv again, watching the game. "Thanks." She finally said, leaning against her father.

Myka grabbed her laptop from the nightstand and placed it on her lap. She opened again to the monthly status report. "Anytime."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I don't want any hate from this chapter please! My views on Myka's sexality are interesting, and are dealt with a bit in this chapter. I DO NOT CONDONE SHIP HATE! Yes, in tumblr posts, I see Bering and Wells stuff, and I get why people ship it, but when watching the show, I do not see anything more than friendship. But, that whole "Many of my lovers were men" line, and Myka's reaction, well lets just say that I could see more than just curiosity in her face. I still do not believe that their relationship ever progressed past friendship, but I have a deep respect for people who do! If anyone wants to chat, my inbox is always open, or you can find me on tumblr (soprano193 because I use it for everything!). Also, I had like seven people read this ahead of time to make sure it sounded natural. Please tell me what you think!**

**Also, check out my other story, This Used To Just Be My Bed, which is these stories told from Pete's perspective. Chapter three has a really cute date scene!**


	7. Chapter 7

_About twenty minutes to go_, she thought, driving down the street as fast as she could. The windows were open and her curly hair was blowing in her face. She reached an arm around her head and pulled her hair from the left side of her face behind her neck and rested it on her right shoulder. She blinked back the tears that had been falling all day. Driving had been a very bad idea, you aren't supposed to drive when in an extreme emotional strength.

She pressed a button on the steering wheel, Bluetooth connecting her to her phone. "Call Martin." She spoke clearly, and the microphone above the rearview mirror picked her voice up.

"Dialing Martin Lattimer." The automated voice confirmed. She heard it ring for a while before there was an answer.

"Hello?" She heard his voice in her car.

"Hey, I'm about fifteen minutes away. How are you doing?" She asked.

"Okay, I guess. It hasn't hit me yet." He answered solemnly.

"Me neither." She answered. She wiped a stray year from her eye, one of many she was sure she would shed. "How is he doing?" She finally asked.

"Dad? He's not doing as well. He hasn't left his room, he's refusing visitors. I haven't seen him since this morning." Martin answered.

She nodded to no one in particular. "Okay, well I'm almost there, I'll see you soon."

"Okay." He answered.

He sounded so sad, and she couldn't fault him. She wanted to reach through the speakers and wrap him in a hug and not let go. "Hey Martin?"

"Yes, Ginny?" He answered.

"Hang in there." She finally said, holding back tears. She pressed the end call button on her steering wheel without waiting for a response. She hoped he was at least being supported by somebody, Uncle Steve or Aunt Claude wouldn't let him go through this alone. She was concerned that no one had seen her father all day either. That wasn't a good sign.

She glanced at the pictures she kept on her dashboard. One was of her parents, a picture she had taken of them when she was six. Her Dad was sitting on the couch and her mother's legs stretched over his lap, and they each had a mug of hot chocolate. Her father was looking at her, watching her carefully, but her mother's gaze was locked on her father's eyes. Another was of her and her mother side by side, a selfie Myka had taken. It was somewhat eerie, looking at pictures of her mother, because it was almost like looking in a mirror. She hadn't seen it as much when she was younger, but she saw it now, in everything except for her eyes and some of her facial expressions. The last picture was of her own family, she and her wife Lucy sitting on a swing in their backyard, Lucy's long blonde hair pulled back and her blue eyes shining. Their daughter Katherine sat in between them, dressed in a purple dress, her black hair done in braids that rested just over her shoulders.

She didn't believe it when she got the call from Aunt Claude, that her mother was suddenly gone. It had been unexpected, at least to them, and she wasn't sure how she was handling the news. She had explained the situation to Lucy quickly, hopping into a car, and telling the blonde that she would call later tonight. And she just drove, for hours until she found herself in familiar territory once again in South Dakota.

_I'm already there, Take a look around. I'm the sunshine in your hair, I'm the shadow on the ground. I'm the whisper in the wind, and I'll be there until the end. Can you feel the love that we share? Oh I'm already there._ If Ginny wasn't crying, she was during that song. She pulled over to the side of the road to allow herself some time to cope, trying to push her mother out of her thoughts enough to make it to the Bed and Breakfast. She wiped some stray tears out of her eyes and switched the radio stations, looking for anything that wouldn't play music like that. She settled on a station that played electronic music, and pushed her hair out of her face. She was almost there.

Out of everyone in her family, Ginny was the only one who decided on a career outside of the warehouse, choosing instead to become a history professor at a local university, putting to good use all those stories and lore that Artie used to tell them. Pete still worked as an agent, and even Martin was being trained, as he fell in love with the job as Pete described it to him. So they all still lived in the Bed and Breakfast, the same one her mother had wanted to move out of at first to give her children a normal life. But Ginny couldn't imagine growing up any differently, in a house away from her extended family. It wasn't a life she liked to imagine growing up.

She drove quickly down the familiar street, her mind elsewhere as her body went on auto pilot. She wasn't sure what to expect when she got there, who to expect, and she didn't know how she would react.

Before she knew it, she was parked outside of her childhood home. Everything was hitting her like a wave. She couldn't escape her mother's memory here, it wasn't possible. It had been easier on the ride here, to ignore the pictures on her dash, or to blare music to drown out her thoughts. She couldn't do that anymore, she had to face this.

The door opened before she knocked, and she was quickly wrapped in Martin's arms, almost falling over with the force of the weight he threw at her. His shoulders heaved as he sobbed, and Ginny allowed her own tears to fall as she rubbed her hands up and down his back. They stayed like that for a while, just outside of the door. He finally pulled away, his green eyes meeting her brown for the first time in months. "Thank you so much for coming." He said quietly.

Ginny nodded. "Of course I came." She rubbed his shoulder as he led her into the house. Once inside, she was bombarded by hugs from Aunt Claudia and Uncle Steve, both of them holding on to her and allowing her to cry. And she really cried, for the first time that day. Steve's partner Joel hugged her briefly before he sat back down. Claudia made room on the couch next to her for Ginny to sit, while Martin sat down next to a woman that Ginny didn't recognize.

She waved at Ginny awkwardly. _I'm so sorry for your loss._ She signed.

Ginny smiled back at the woman warmly. "Thank you." She said out loud, throwing in the sign as well, knowing that it could be hard to read lips sometimes, or so she had heard from Aunt Jeannie.

Martin signed and spoke for both of their benefit. "Ginny, this is my girlfriend, Julie. Julie, this is Ginny." The woman nodded and smiled at him, allowing him to rest his head on her shoulder. Ginny was so happy that he at least had someone here that he could talk to, someone here to keep him grounded. Her support system would arrive via plane tomorrow.

Julie waved her hand at Ginny, getting her attention. _I met your mother last night. She was very nice. You look just like her._ She smiled warmly at Ginny while she signed.

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, I get that a lot." She spoke and signed again, a smile on her own face.

"Did she say you look like Myka?" Claudia asked, confused.

Ginny laughed. "Yeah, that's exactly what she said." She fought back some tears again as she thought of her mother, and Claudia started stroking her curls. Ginny curled into the other woman's body as she cried.

After about twenty minutes of silence, Martin finally spoke up. "So, I guess it was heart failure. None of us knew, and she kept it to herself." He explained. Ginny got angry. It was so typical of her mother, to share in her joy but keep her sorrows to herself. If they had known, maybe they could have helped her, or could have planned better, or at least been prepared so she wasn't getting called out of the blue. She was thirty two, her mother had been sixty eight, and she should have had at least a good decade left. She took a calming breath. No use getting angry, at least not now.

Ginny nodded. "Okay. Thanks for telling me." She pushed herself up, so she was no longer leaning on Claudia. "How is Dad?" she finally asked about the one family member she had yet to see.

Martin shrugged. "After they removed her body, he went upstairs without a word." He looked down. "I've tried to go in a couple times but he just yells at me to go away."

Claudia nodded next to him. "Yeah, same for me, he wouldn't let me in."

Ginny knew her father, he was stubborn, especially when he was upset. But she was her father's daughter, and she could be just as stubborn back. "Well, I would like to see him."

Martin looked at her, their eyes meeting again. "He'll just refuse you."

Ginny shook her head. "I won't let him." She replied, standing up and walking towards the staircase. Once there, she stopped for a moment, remembering the time her Dad had taught her how to slide down the banister, and how unhappy her Mom had been about it. She smiled at the memory as she climbed up the stairs, heading down the hallway to her parents' room. She knocked three times on the door.

"Go away." She heard from inside. That was not the answer she came for. She tried the door, and found that it was unlocked. She pushed it open slowly, entering the room. "Please, just leave me alone." She heard him say again, but she pressed on.

She could see him looking at her, but couldn't make out his face. She hated that she couldn't see him, the way the shadows covered his face, she couldn't read how he was doing. "Dad? Are you okay?" She asked softly. She could see him recoil at the sound of her voice. He looked away.

"No, I can't." She heard, his voice breaking, revealing his grief.

She stopped suddenly. "You can't what, Dad?" She asked, confused.

There was a long pause before he said anything. "I can't look at you." He sounded hurt, and Ginny understood it. She looked like her mother, she reminded him of what he had lost. But she wasn't going to let him live like that. Eventually, he would have to be okay to look at her, and it was better if he got used to it now. She wasn't going to lose her relationship with her father because of this.

She noticed the bottle on the nightstand next. It didn't look full, and she didn't know where he got it. "Dad!" she shouted, running over to the nightstand to grab the whiskey bottle, holding it in her hands so it wouldn't be in his. "What the fuck?" She yelled, surprised at her expletive. He had always been open with them about his alcoholism, as it was genetic. She took extra precautions, such as a drink limit when she went out, and only going out a handful of times a month as a result. He was forty years sober, and she didn't want to see him pour that down the drain. She opened the window with a bang, using all her might to throw the bottle as far away as possible. She turned back towards him, tears in her eyes, wordlessly begging for an explanation.

He shook his head at her. "I didn't, I swear." He responded. Ginny paused to read his face, she wasn't sure if she believed him. She knew how important it was to him, but she also knew he was in pain, and it may have been easy to slip back into that pattern of behavior. "I swear, Ginny, I didn't drink any of it." He told her again, with a little more conviction. "Your mother," he started, and her face softened. Her Mom had been what kept him grounded. He never wanted her to see him like that. She just knew in her gut that he was telling the truth.

Ginny sank down into the bed with him, wrapping him in a hug that she hoped resembled the hugs he gave her when she was younger and in pain. She buried her face in his chest and began to sob, her chest heaving, her tears wetting his shirt. "Don't scare me like that." She demanded. ""I already lost Mom today, I don't want to lose you too."

At that, she felt his grip tighten around her, and she tightened hers, glad that she was finally being let in, that he was responding to her. "I'm sorry, baby girl" he whispered, using her old nickname. She didn't correct him, just let him be, comforting her as she comforted him. She felt the kiss that he placed in her curls. They stayed like that a while, neither of them talking, while they both cried in each other's arms. She felt his hand stroking her hair. "I'm sorry," he said again, "But I promise, I'm not going anywhere." And she knew that they would be alright.

* * *

**A/N: These chapters sucked to write and I am drained. I did something different this time. I wrote the one from Pete's point of view first before I wrote this one. I hope everyone enjoyed the ride, and don't hate me for the bitter ending. Please check out This Used to Just be My Bed, it would make me very happy. Thanks for following this through to the end with me.**


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